Last Song
by ParisWriter
Summary: Isabela's prying brings up a bittersweet memory from Varric's past. (Varric/?)


Author's Note: Written for the February 2013 Writing Challenge held by the Dragon Age Stories group on deviantART.

The parameters of the challenge were as follows:

Maximum of 1,000 words: 994 words  
Must include the following:  
1) Character - A short man with a crooked nose: Varric, who has suffered a broken nose in the name of love.  
2) Setting - A forest clearing: Varric and his lady friend have been secretly meeting in a spot in the forest, which is where the majority of the story takes place.  
3) Prop - A Candle and water jug: Done and done.

This one came _very_ easily to me, and I had it finished within an hour of seeing the announcement of the monthly prompts.

* * *

**Last Song**

"Stop flinching."

Varric muttered a few choice words under his breath, but held still when she brought the wet cloth to his nose and carefully wiped away some more of the dried blood.

"How bad is it?" he asked as she poured some water from the jug she'd brought with her onto the cloth to wash away the blood before returning to examining his injuries.

"I think it's broken," she assessed, gingerly touching the bump in the brigde of his nose. Varric hissed in pain and pulled away shaprly from her touch.

"Sorry," she apologized, tucking some of her long blonde hair behind one ear and lowering her eyes in shame. "You're lucky it's just a broken nose, though. You know how my father feels about us being together."

"Hey," Varric addressed her, cupping a hand under her chin and turning her face back up to his. Their eyes met and he gave her one of his most charming smiles. "I don't care what that uptight horse's ass thinks. I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know," she replied with a nod, tears springing to her dark brown eyes. She stood from her seat next to him upon the large stone where they always met in the forest, being careful not to knock over the candle which was providing their only source of light.

"We can't keep meeting like this," she told him, her voice shaking. "He'll never approve of us, no matter how much you try to sweet-talk him."

"Do I really look like I care?" Varric asked, getting up and walking over to her. He took one of her hands in his and pulled her down until their lips met. She returned the kiss for a moment before pulling away with a quiet sob.

"What's wrong?" Varric asked her, leading her back over to their secret spot where they had been meeting almost every night for six months – away from the prying eyes of those who disapproved of a relationship between a dwarf and human.

"He's sending me away," she told him through her tears.

"What?"

"Father said he's had it with me bringing shame upon the family by associating with the likes of you. He's made arrangements to give me to the Chantry."

"Then it's settled," Varric stated. "We'll run away together. Tonight."

"No!" she begged, grasping his hands and kneeling before him. "No, Varric. We can't."

"Why not?" he wondered, feeling hurt that she would deny them the chance to be together that they had longed for almost since the day they first met.

"You've seen his temper. If we were to run away together, do you really think he wouldn't come after us? He'd _kill_ you, I know it! I can't... I won't let you die for me."

She threw her arms around him and Varric held her tightly as she continued to cry in his arms, tears silently rolling down his own cheeks. He knew she was right. As long as her father was alive, the man would do everything in his power to keep them apart. Still, he didn't want to have to watch her be shoved away in some chantry to live out a life of quiet solitude – the exact sort of life she'd told him she longed to escape in favor of the one full of adventure and amusing stories that he could give her.

"I love you, Varric. With everything that I am, for as long as I breathe. Even if we can't be together... As long as I know you're out there, I can be happy in the knowledge that the one who holds my heart still lives."

Varric shamelessly cried at her words, no longer caring about the pain in his broken nose as he buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath, memorizing the scent of lilies and citrus upon her. She had summed up everything he felt for her in those few sentences. As long as he lived, he would never give his heart to another woman. She was his heart, his soul, his inspiration. Perhaps they would never see each other again, but he would always have his memories of her and he would cherish them and hold them dear until the day he died.

"Promise me, Varric," she requested, pulling away from him just enough that she could look into his eyes.

"I promise," Varric told her, not needing to ask what he was swearing to her. "Only you, Bianca."

The two lovers shared one final kiss, both of their hearts breaking while at the same time clinging to the smallest glimmer of hope that one day they would be reunited and finally get to spend their lives together as they had dreamed.

* * *

"Well?"

"Well, what, Rivaini?"

"I won the bet."

"So?"

"So, you said I could ask you anything."

"That I did."

"I asked why you named your crossbow Bianca."

"I heard you."

"So?"

Varric let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair, cradling the crossbow in his arms. It had been given to him within an hour after hearing of his beloved Bianca's death, and he had named it in her honor after going to visit their special spot in the forest behind her father's estate one last time. Even though she was gone, his memories of her still remained as vivid in his mind as the day each of them had been formed. Until he died, he would keep those memories – and her – locked away safely within his heart.

"There was a girl," he finally told the pirate, letting out another sigh, "and I made a promise. But that's all I'm going to say. Bianca is the only story I can never tell."


End file.
